


Uncomplicated Something Between Friends

by Morninglight (orphan_account)



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Anal Fingering, Class Issues, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fellatio, Friends With Benefits, Misogyny, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6942139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Morninglight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lawyer SoSu/Arthur Maxson Tumblr prompt by dyr0z inspired this.</p><p>Widowed lawyer Sparrow Finlay agrees to watch Arthur Maxson at her mother's request because of a favour owed to Roger Maxson. She knew he was a colossal pain in the ass - she just wasn't expecting him to be a sexy pain in the ass.</p><p>Sometimes all that's needed is an uncomplicated something between friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncomplicated Something Between Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Trigger warning for classism and misogyny. Condensed, smutty version of the Arthur/Sparrow AU a Tumblr prompt by dyr0z inspired. Enjoy!

“Seriously, I was called at 2AM because Roger Maxson’s precious grandson got drunk and called Senator Creel a Commie cunt at the Republican convention?”

            “I fear so,” Elisabeth Killian said on the other end of the line. “This is the last straw for Roger.”

            “That’s nice, but what do I have to do with this?” Sparrow was busy trying to pin her messy hair into a neat bun.

            “I owe him a favour and-“ Elisabeth coughed awkwardly. “Arthur’s more inclined to listen to an attractive young woman than an old bat like me.”

            Sparrow’s response took the Lord’s name in a way that would see her doing penance next Sunday. Her mother’s sigh was pointed.

            “Just keep him busy for the next week while Roger’s campaigning. Do that and your father’s procurement budget will get a very nice boost.”

            “Mom, you owe me. Big time.”

            In the end she gave up on her hair, pulled on a blouse, skirt and jacket that were clean and ironed, and drove over to Cambridge to pick up the spoilt scion of a military family with more ambition than class.

            “He’s in the lockup,” Nick Valentine, an old friend of the family, drawled when Sparrow asked after him.

            “Bring him to an interview room, thanks. I need a cup of coffee and some aspirin before I deal with him.”

            Arthur Maxson was waiting for her, handcuffed, as she walked into the interview room. Big and barrel-chested like the rest of the family, he filled out the business suit – which was open to show the loosened tie and top button of his silk shirt undone – like no man should. The ash-brown undercut fell into his eyes, which were a harsh blue that contrasted against his sun-browned skin, and almost hid the wicked scar from a fight during his last tour of duty on the Anchorage Front. His full mouth quirked appreciatively as she shut the door behind herself.

            “You are in my care for the next week thanks to your little stunt,” Sparrow said icily to conceal the sudden twist of heat low in her belly.

            Maxson’s eyes glittered. “I’m sure it will be no hardship.”

            “Don’t be so sure. You’re sleeping on the couch.” Sparrow smiled sweet poison at him. “Now get up. I want to go back to bed.”

            He stood up slowly, shrugging his shoulders to settle his jacket, and smiled slightly. “I didn’t get your name.”

            “Sparrow Finlay.”

            His blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Grandpa called in the big guns I see.”

            “Only because a favour was owed.” Sparrow turned away abruptly. Later on, she was going to find a motel she could dump him in and just do a daily check-up. She had Shaun and her _paying_ legal work to worry about.

            Maxson was soon processed, Nick Valentine only too happy to expedite the paperwork, and following her out to the car as he rubbed his wrists. His gaze on her was palpable and Sparrow cursed her mother for owing General Maxson a favour. She’d just made a measure of peace with Nate’s death; she didn’t need another bad boy soldier fucking up her life.

            It was halfway back to Sanctuary Hills before their tense silence was broken. “I’m not drunk,” Arthur said suddenly.

            “So why call Creel a Commie cunt?” Sparrow asked as she drove through Lexington.

            “Because he implied I let myself be injured to escape the military,” Arthur told her flatly.

            “Oh.” She turned her attention back to driving.

            “Is being saddled with me such a chore?” Arthur asked once they were out of Lexington.

            “I have a son to take care of and work to do,” Sparrow replied curtly.

            “Oh. I’m sorry.” For a moment, he actually sounded sincere.

            It was almost 3AM when she parked in her driveway. The sound of Shaun crying and Codsworth making hushing noises reached her; Sparrow hurried inside, leaving Maxson to lock the car up and come in after her. By the time the big lout was inside, she was rocking Shaun, who was going through teething problems at the moment.

            “Mum?” Her Mr Handy sounded uncertain.

            “It’s alright. This is Arthur Maxson. He’s here until I can find somewhere else to put him. Can you make up the couch?”

            “Of course, mum.”

            If she made it clear that Maxson was only here on sufferance, he might get annoyed enough to gladly lay down low in some middling-decent motel, maybe in Concord. He’d be out of her hair and her hormones under control.

            Meanwhile, she was exhausted and wouldn’t be able to sleep until Shaun did. Which – if he was hungry – might be an hour or more.

            So she focused on her son and completely ignored the attractive asshole taking up space in her living room.

…

If Arthur were a slightly better person, he’d be falling over himself apologising for inconveniencing Sparrow. The dark circles under her eyes spoke eloquently of her weariness after all. But her brusque, even hostile attitude raised his hackles even as the rounded hips shown to perfection under the crisp taupe wool skirt raised his cock.

            So he watched silently as she soothed her son to sleep and the Mr Handy – who managed to give him a jaundiced look with those owlish robot eyes – brought out a pillow and some blankets. There were a few rumours about Sparrow before she got married to that Finlay chap, the sort that made him wish he’d been old enough to meet her while she was in college. Marriage, motherhood and widowhood in that order had dampened the sensual side of her… but it was still there, visible in the way she’d sized him up on entering the interview room.

            It would give him something to do this week while laying low as not to fuck up his grandfather’s campaign for the Senate.

            Once the baby was sleeping and handed over to the Mr Handy, who drifted back down the hallway to what was presumably the nursery, Arthur shrugged off his blazer and dropped it on the arm of the couch. The whisper of wool against silk was shockingly loud in the early morning silence and Sparrow turned around with a frown.

            He smiled at her, just a little curve of the lips, and began to unbutton his shirt after removing his tie.

            She sucked in a breath sharply, a flush blooming across her high cheekbones, and Arthur saw the dilation of her pupils until only a thin ring of rich brown iris was visible in her eyes.

            He unbuttoned the cuffs, still watching her intently, and kicked off his black leather shoes. Eyes flicked down, following the line of his body hair to where it disappeared into his trousers, which were tented from the half-arousal he’d endured since watching her walk from behind.

            Then she assumed an exasperated expression that made him smirk a little. “Goodnight,” she told him curtly. “If you need anything when you wake up, Codsworth will take care of it.”

            “Goodnight, Sparrow,” he rasped. “Thank you for the hospitality.”

            She ignored him, pulling off her heels and walking down the hallway. Arthur tormented himself by watching the way her hips swayed and then smiled.

            She found him as attractive as he found her.

…

Damn him.

            Arthur Maxson was wearing one of Nate’s old shirts and a pair of denim jeans when she woke up, gritty-eyed from a lack of sleep, and filled them out better than her husband ever did. He chatted companionably with Codsworth as the Mr Handy cooked porridge in milk and honey for breakfast, a mug of coffee in hand and his hair tousled by sleep. Sparrow took one look at them, mumbled something that might be good morning, and stumbled into the bathroom to wake herself up properly.

            It was Saturday, which meant a half-day at the office. Sparrow donned the taupe wool business suit she’d worn last night with a clean ivory silk blouse, entered Shaun’s bedroom and spun the mobile as her baby boy laughed. Just under a year old and he’d never know his father.

            “He’s adorable.” Maxson’s husky voice nearly startled her out of her skin. Sparrow turned around slowly, refusing to give him the pleasure of seeing her frightened, and realised that he was almost too close for good manners. He smelt like Nate’s Old Spice; Codsworth obviously let him use her late husband’s toiletries as he’d brought none of his own.

            “Thank you,” she said shortly. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go to work.”

            Arthur looked into her eyes, blue gaze burning like the flame of a Bunsen burner. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked gently. “I am an inconvenience you’ve taken on as a favour.”

            “Find a motel,” she answered. “Keeping an eye on you doesn’t extend to letting you stay at my house.”

            One thick eyebrow arched. “Worried about what the neighbours will think?”

            “Amongst other things, yes.” Sparrow squared her shoulders and told her hormones to stop jumping around like Chihuahuas on caffeine. She was a respectable widow with a successful career in law now, not the college student who liked to thank the troops for their service – especially the handsome, virile ones – personally.

            “I wish I’d known you in college,” he said frankly.

            “You were in middle school at the time,” she retorted.

            “Alas,” he said with a wicked smile.

            She pushed past him, wondering how the hell he’d discovered her extracurricular activities at Suffolk County Law School.

            It was going to be a long week if he didn’t stop pushing.

…

Arthur watched Sparrow leave. Had he misjudged her? She’d lost her husband a year or so ago if he recalled correctly, Nate Finlay dying before he even knew he had a son. Maybe she still grieved too much to be interested.

            The ex-soldier shook his head. She was attracted but conflicted. He would go looking for a nearby motel, give her some space.

            He looked down at the baby. Poor mite was being raised by a robot as a paternal figure. Probably better off than with Roger Maxson as one, Arthur supposed.

            It had gone from wanting to seduce her to amuse himself for the next week to something else. Not a challenge, precisely, but a way to ease the tension between them.

            Time to see if there was anything constructive he could do while here before looking for a motel.

…

Sparrow walked into her own home to see Arthur feeding Shaun under Codsworth’s supervision. He held the baby correctly, supporting the neck with the crook of his arm while feeding him with the other hand, making whooshing noises. She bit her bottom lip, feeling slightly guilty. Maxson wasn’t a bad man, just… an oversexed pain in the ass.

            “Mum,” the robot greeted cheerfully. “Master Arthur has made himself useful all day.”

            “Impressive,” she observed dryly.

            “I’ve never fed a baby before,” Arthur murmured as he spooned egg custard into Shaun’s mouth. “Actually, this is the closest I’ve ever been to one.”

            “You mean with all the baby-holding your grandfather does, you’ve never had to do the same?” Sparrow asked.

            Arthur’s smile was a little melancholy. “Do I look like the sort of man a mother would trust with her child?”

            She studied him: the large callused hands, the breadth of his muscled shoulders, the ragged scar on his face and the intensity of his blue eyes. “You’re not a monster,” she finally told him. “Just a colossal pain in the ass.”

            “That’s kind of you.” He finished feeding Shaun and then handed him over to Sparrow, who burped him. “I called around for a nearby motel today and unfortunately, there won’t be rooms free until Monday. I fear you’re stuck with me for another night or two.”

            She sighed inwardly. “We’ll make do. Codsworth, can you push the two couches together? If the neighbours make any comments, just tell him he’s a veteran who knew my husband and I’m putting him up for a bit as a favour.”

            “Certainly, mum.”

            “Thanks.” Sparrow hugged Shaun until he began to fuss a little. She didn’t know how she’d have coped without the Mr Handy.

            After changing his diaper and putting him down for a rest, Sparrow went out into the living room and regarded Arthur soberly. “I’m sorry for narking at you,” she told him. “It’s just…”

            “I’m a colossal pain in the ass.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes despite the wry tone of his voice.

            “Well, yes. But I’ve been accused of being a stone-cold bitch, so…”

            “You lost your husband. A certain amount of, ah, distance is to be expected.” Arthur paused and then added, “I’m sorry for… bothering you. It was beastly of me to do so.”

            Sparrow bit her bottom lip and looked down. “Forgiven. I… just don’t need complications at the moment.”

            Complications like an incredibly sexy pain in the ass who was more complex and gentle than she expected.

            “I’ll be out of your hair by Monday, I promise,” he rasped.

            “Thank you,” she told him before turning away to avoid the disappointment in his eyes. “I’ll, ah, make sure you have a few things for the motel by tomorrow.”

            “Thanks,” he sighed, reaching for the television knobs.

…

Monday came and Arthur found a cheap motel in Concord that was home to a few other veterans who lacked the means his grandfather possessed. It was something of a relief to be around men who knew how bad the war in Alaska was, with whom he could be honest and even bitter with.

            He still missed Sparrow and even Shaun though.

            Tuesday morning, Sparrow came by early with a few frozen meals and a Tupperware container of Codsworth’s porridge. “It’s going to be a busy couple days for me,” she told him quietly. “So I thought I’d bring you some decent food.”

            “Thank you.” She was dressed up even by her normal standards: ivory linen business suit with a calf-length skirt, burnt orange silk blouse, brown leather heels and even a strand of golden pearls around her neck. Her chestnut-brown hair was pinned into a chignon with bangs at the front instead of a sleek little bun at the back and she wore enough black eyeliner to bring out her eyes and a hint of lipstick to bring a shine to her coral-hued lips. “Court?”

            “Yes. One of my clients is a veteran who’s trying to get his rightful benefits,” she replied.

            “Danse?” Arthur asked, naming one of the men staying at the motel.

            “Yes.” Sparrow narrowed her eyes at him. “I can’t break attorney-client privilege, Arthur.”

            “I know. I also know the judge on the case.” Arthur smiled mirthlessly down at the lawyer and leaned over to murmur a bit of pertinent information in her ear.

            Her eyes widened and she nodded when he stepped away. “That will be… useful.”

            “Good. Danse is a good man who deserves all the help he can get.”

            “That’s why I took on his case pro bono. He knew Nate.”

            “Ah.” Arthur smiled at her and touched his forehead in salute. “Good luck.”

            “With what you just told me, I won’t need it. Thanks.” She smiled at him warmly, the positive emotion turning her face from attractive to gorgeous, and left. Danse was already making his way to the courthouse.

            Arthur spent the rest of the day watching television and wondering how he could make her smile like that again.

            By Thursday, Danse was wheeling himself out of the motel with a grin, Sparrow by his side. With his proper benefits given to him thanks to a touch of judicious blackmail, the soldier would be able to open that scrapping business he wanted to and employ other veterans. Arthur had already promised a year’s free rent in a shopfront that he actually owned outright in Lexington. He rather liked Danse.

            Sparrow leaned against the wall and smiled at him. “Have you considered advocating for veterans?” she suggested. “I’m not talking about in the law courts, I’m talking about helping them do their shopping or navigating the bureaucracy that you and I know so well but they don’t.”

            He blinked at her. “I haven’t,” he admitted.

            “You’d be surprised how many working-class veterans are screwed around each year,” Sparrow said with a sigh. “I can only help so many and judges like Fairbanks tend to dismiss civilians, especially women.”

            “Fairbanks only pays attention to women if they’re his wife or his mistress,” Arthur pointed out dryly.

            “That’s true,” she agreed. “Do you want to stop by my office and then grab something to eat? I have some paperwork to finish up but the Red Rocket Truck Stop has a decent short-order cook attached to it.”

            Arthur smiled. “I’d like that.”

            Finlay, Murphy and Savoldi Law Firm was a small one but richly appointed with mushroom velvet upholstery, mahogany panelling and an old-time décor. “Hasn’t been changed in a hundred and twenty years,” Sparrow announced cheerfully. “Aside from Finlay replacing Ahern, which was my mother’s maiden name.”

            “Huh.” It was empty but for a world-weary secretary who was packing up files for the end of day organisation.

            “Another client?” she asked boredly, looking over Arthur.

            “More like a favour for my mother,” Sparrow said wryly. “Did you need anything?”

            “No. You’ll have Danse’s paperwork ready by the morning?”

            “That’s why I’m here.”

            The secretary cleared out and Sparrow sighed in relief. “Geneva’s a huge gossip,” she said. “Only knowing what my mother does to gossips keeps her from prying into my business.”

            “I see.” Arthur followed her into the tiny office that Sparrow called her own, this one decorated with hues of dusky rose and warm gold. He chuckled softly when she pulled off her heels with a grimace and walked around in stockinged feet; the Sparrow he’d observed hated getting dolled up, preferring businesslike attire with only a hint of makeup.

            There a photograph of Shaun on her desk in the same frame as a faded picture of Sparrow in a wedding dress with a tall, dark-haired man in a suit beside her. That had to be Nate Finlay, of whom Danse said little – but that little spoke volumes.

            _”He was finicky. Made him good at black ops but kind of an asshole to work with. Or be married to, I suppose. Was never happy about Sparrow working after she got pregnant, but how else could she keep the house and take care of Shaun?”_

There was a story between those few sentences and an explanation of why Sparrow didn’t want ‘complications’.

            Arthur sucked in a breath when Sparrow removed her jacket and hung it from the chair. The burnt orange blouse had a deeper neckline than he expected, showing a generous amount of rosy flesh and hinting at the soft breasts beneath. His hand would be busy tonight.

            “What?” Sparrow asked, looking at him oddly.

            Unbidden, his hand rose to cradle the side of her face, her skin soft and dry as pressed flower petals. “You’re gorgeous.”

            “Arthur…” Sparrow tilted her head, regarding him sombrely. “I don’t want a relationship of any kind.”

            He caressed the side of her jaw, feeling the rapidity of her heartbeat. “Neither do I. How about an uncomplicated fuck between two friends?”

            “Nothing involving you is uncomplicated,” she pointed out – but made no move to shift his hand.

            “When was the last time you had sex?” It was crude of him to ask but he was curious.

            “The day Shaun was conceived,” she sighed. “Nate was rotated back to Alaska shortly after.”

            “Oh.” Arthur dropped his hand. “I…”

            She reached up and kissed him. Arthur’s hands closed convulsively on her hips, dragging her against him.

            Yes… This was what he wanted. He wasn’t in love with Sparrow but he certainly found her desirable and considered her a friend.

            An uncomplicated fuck between friends. That’s all this was.

…

Arthur mouthed his way down the side of her neck after breaking the kiss, his beard scraping against her flesh, and Sparrow moaned in pleasure. That question of his had pierced the armour of indifference which built up around her after she married Nate, only because she was pregnant with Shaun, and reminded her of what she’d been missing. His offer of a fuck between friends only sealed the deal.

            Being in the office meant that disrobing entirely was out of the question but Arthur unbuttoned her blouse and the front-clasping bra she wore today, lavishing attention on her breasts until she whimpered for mercy, leaving the nipples stiff and flushed deep rose. Maxson chuckled darkly and hoisted her skirt up to reveal the garter belt she used to hold up her stockings, a plain thing of rose-pink silk, and her off-white satin knickers. “I approve,” he murmured, kissing the side of her thigh after pulling down her panties.

            He then proceeded to eat her out until she was stifling her cries with her fist, slick dripping from her cunt as he licked her from asshole to clit, then tongue-fucked her into an almost mind-shattering orgasm.

            When he massaged her slick into her asshole before slipping a thumb in there, Sparrow shuddered half in anticipation, half in desire. His fingers were as talented as his tongue, drawing another climax out of her with absolutely filthy strokes and gestures, both holes filled.

            God, she’d missed this. Maybe she could have found this sort of pleasure with Nate if the war hadn’t taken him from her. She’d never know.

            When she was limp as spaghetti, Arthur pulled down his pants to reveal the reason why he’d taken such care to bring her to orgasm: a cock so hard and thick, slightly curved as it rose rampant above heavy please-suck-me balls, that it should be registered with the BADTFL as a dangerous weapon.

            She turned around and leaned on the desk after carefully removing the paperwork. She’d need to do it when this was done so Geneva could file it in the morning.

            “Fuck,” he cursed. “You’ve done this before.”

            “Not on this desk, but I christened a few back at college,” she flung over her shoulder with a smirk.

            “Time to add this one to the list then.” He thrust himself into her, drawing a half-pained gasp from her lips, before withdrawing and repeating the motion until he was balls-deep in her.

            For all his expertise elsewhere, Arthur was still a young man and came a little too quickly for Sparrow – but nothing her own hand couldn’t fix. She shuddered for the third time around his softening cock, muffling the cry with her fist, and slumped against the desk panting heavily.

            “Shit,” she gasped, trying to fill her lungs. “I should’ve done the paperwork first.”

            “Why?” Arthur asked as he pressed a kiss to her sweaty neck.

            “Because you fucked my legs out from under me.”

            The ex-soldier threw his head back and laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

            “It was meant as one.” She winced as he withdrew. “Remind me to put a raincheck on a blowjob for you.”

            “Please do.” He kneaded her buttocks for a moment. “Let me get some water and a washcloth.”

            “Good idea,” she agreed. She’d need to make a discreet visit to the pharmacist later for particular pills.

            After he washed her and himself clean with gentle hands, Arthur claimed that raincheck for the blowjob. Sparrow hummed the Marines’ hymn as she sucked him dry, her finger in his ass pressing against his prostrate. The youngest Maxson scion muttered words that were far filthier than what he called Senator Creel, hands messing up her chignon by twisting in her chestnut hair until it pleasantly burned.

            Once he climaxed, swearing hoarsely, Sparrow reached for a glass of water and washed out her mouth after swallowing. God, she’d missed those soldier boys – not that she could go back to her college days. But there was one here she had every reason to see regularly…

            “Thank you,” he said hoarsely. “I see the rumours of your college prowess are true.”

            “You’re welcome, but please don’t confirm them,” she told him, licking her lips. “What may be forgiven in college is not permitted for a widow, especially in the circles we both roam.”

            “I know.” Arthur’s expression was regretful. “Do you miss him?”

            “Nate? I miss what might have been.” Sparrow rose to her knees and began to dress herself. She had to clean up the office and complete that paperwork. “But… thank you for reminding me of what else I missed.”

            Maxson grinned. “My pleasure,” he told her.

            “Now go let me do my paperwork, hmm? Danse will need his benefits.”

            “Of course.” Arthur sauntered over to the corner, pulling up his jeans on the way, and leaned against the filing cabinet. Much to his credit, he didn’t lasciviously smirk at her as she worked.

            Despite her exhaustion, the paperwork was soon completed and the duo on their way back to Sanctuary Hills. The Red Rocket was open and Sparrow indulged in fatty fried foods she hadn’t eaten since college, watching Arthur inhale half the menu. Ah, young men and their appetites.

            She watched him walk back with a spring in his step and wondered if there would be a repeat. Friends with benefits had its place in relationships after all – and while he had his own issues, like the anger management problem that was a side effect of the injury that had him honourably discharged from the military, Arthur had become a good friend in his way.

            Sparrow smiled and decided that if he needed to be kept out of the way again, she might just have a spare bed for him at her place.


End file.
